Hurt Me: Not Just a Memory
by Orin Drake
Summary: One night, in the dark... old enemies, old pain... Rated for violence and sexual situations READ DISCLAIMER THANKS.


"Hurt Me" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006, as is the dialog. The characters and the whole of _FFVII_ belong to Square-Enix and shall never be mine, as much as I try.  
Background: It started off so simply (check out the original _Hurt Me_ at (wx3)(dot)reignofangels(dot)com/writing/hurtme(dot)html)... so of course I had to fill it in. I realized I'd never written a Sephiroth/Cloud situation before, so that had to be remedied! This has absolutely nothing to do with the Sins universe, by the way (since the poor boys never got to opportunity to play with each other, there)--totally AU in so many ways... but still yummy.   
**_WARNINGS:_** Violence, language, blood, dark subject matter, bondage, not entirely consensual behavior... plenty of evil. Heh heh. This is... brutal. It's been a while, you see. (Sorry, Cloud.)

Hurt Me - Not Just a Memory  
by Orin Drake

It would have been too dark to see anything, had he been a normal human. Damn Mako... If only he'd thought to close his eyes sooner...  
He was gasping. Sweating. _Then_ his eyes were closed, tightly--tight against the world. But, more... they were closed against the onslaught of memory made real. Those hands... those eyes... that fucking _memory_--  
"Ssshh." The voice purred, _poured_ on like warm honey, hot velvet dressed in soft black leather. "Cum for me."  
The blond hissed through gritted teeth as the third finger found entrance into his unwilling body. He thrashed again, raging against the leather belts that bound his arms and his wrists to the makeshift hook on the ceiling--the Masamune's hilt. The rest was buried in wood and leaking pipes... not that the dripping water cooled his body. He'd been whipped with his own belt, blue-black running under streams of living red from his neck to just below his waist... but only on his back. His chest had been favored for drawing patterns with the knife that had been under his pillow; the one he'd instinctually reached for when he'd first opened his eyes in the darkness to find those too-familiar green orbs staring back.  
After all that time... all he'd been through... and Cloud Strife, the world's hero... was reduced to begging with the fourth finger. Only the blood running down his back eased the way. "Not this way... please, not this... not like this..."  
A low chuckle from behind him--right before teeth found the other side of his neck and came together. Sephiroth waited for his cry and heavy breathing to die down before he spoke against the already-bitten earlobe, allowing the blood to remain painting his lips in some distinct act of feral pleasure. "Why the fear?" A smirk was felt as much as heard in his elegant voice. "After so long, why be afraid of it?"  
Frustration... so much fucking frustration! He'd tried... he'd tried _everything_ and he _couldn't get away_. His legs ached, only the balls of his feet able to touch the floor from where he was hanging--and that was only when he could manage to ignore the agony in his arms for long enough to force them to relax. It hurt... it hurt so much... The hand teasing at the juncture between thigh and hip only served to remind him _how_ much. "Please..."  
The long, adept fingers were slid slowly out of and away from his victim as he turned, grabbing the torn remnants of what used to be the blond's shirt to clean his hand. "Such lies." He reached out to run a delicate finger over one of the many criss-crossing marks he'd left in the flesh of that once-perfect back. He noted the tremble--but more, he noticed the twitch of a painfully obvious arousal. "You want me to hurt you, don't you?"  
Cloud was utterly determined not to answer, hanging there in a horrifying pain of too many kinds. He managed to remain silent right up until something _else_ managed to force its way inside. "_No! S-stop!_"  
Another dark chuckle against his ear--the one where there was no longer an earring. Only the head of his impressive length was buried in the boy... but already he could feel the throbbing, the heat... the unwelcome welcoming of the body and the soul at his mercy. "Pain as it mixes with pleasure... as it _turns_ to pleasure..." He _thrust_, then--a hateful motion, both hands leaving bruises on his victim's hips in the process of delivering the agony.  
At first, there was screaming. Thoughtless, awful, screaming... the turn coming only when those teeth poised to do more harm at his neck suddenly pulled back--only lips. The faint mime of a kiss against where the neck met the jaw. A long, low cry bled into a moan. Undeniable, now.  
"Tell me." He demanded breathily, pulling out almost too slowly to be able to stand, himself. "_Beg_ me." All the way outside, he poised himself for another hellish thrust.   
Panic. Pure and absolute, it clutched at him in desperation. Everything _hurt_, all was _pain_--but there was nothing left in him to struggle. His throat was raw. There was no hope left. "No... please... d-don't..."  
"Plead." Sephiroth demanded, moving only his hands--up and down the blond's sides. Up, and down. Slowly. Using the slickness of the sweat and the dripping, broken pipes above, every tiny twitch of muscle was felt. Every shift. Every held-back sob.  
Gasping... gasping... He was in so much pain and terror he couldn't _think_...  
A growl came from behind him, but not of impatience. Arousal... waiting... letting the moment play out as slowly and deliciously as it dared. He would _not_ rush this moment to break the only being in all the universe that had ever tried to break _him_. "Beg for it and I shall give it to you."  
He told himself those weren't tears. They were trickles of water from above... and that was all they'd ever be. Empty. Void. Aching, but... not his... "I... p-please..."   
Not enough. Not even close to enough. He managed the constraint of not pushing forward in the slightest... but rested his hands lightly on the already bruised hips. Preparing. His voice fell to a rough whisper. "Don't force me to leave you like this."   
He shook... trembled... eyes squeezed shut, fists too weak to clench... Over... he wanted it over... "...H-hurt..."  
The smirk turned into a satisfied expression. "Yes?"   
The ache was shifting to the very point of his own denial. It throbbed... it bounced with every heartbeat... "Hurt me..."  
And Sephiroth was not willing to let him deny it any longer. He reached around and pressed a fingertip to the leaking slit--gaining a violent shiver and a choking gasp. "What is it you want?"   
He wanted to scream. Just scream and scream and never stop, not stop until he was dead of blood loss and dehydration... He rocked into the touch by accident, too exhausted to do anything more than shake pathetically. "I want... I..."  
"Tell me what you want." The man ordered, going as far as to ghost a finger along the underside of the pulsing length. "Tell me."  
A moan tore from his throat, impeded only by the blood of a bitten tongue. To taste it... smell it... feel it... the fingertip resting against the true center of his pain... and the weapon at his back, seeking entrance. "I want... to be hurt..."   
Seeking no longer--another thrust in violence, buried entirely in one motion. The body around him clenched as another sweet scream managed to make its way from the tortured throat. "More." He demanded.  
He could hardly breathe, trying to swallow the air around him. There was no more... left... Only slow thrusts and bleeding... hurting... "I want... I want you to... hurt me..."   
"Again." The speed increased, all things undeniable. "Louder. Yell it."  
He didn't think he'd be able to manage the full sentence... but if anyone caused him to surprise himself, it was the man making him bleed. "I want you to hurt me."  
"_Louder!_" The motion became erratic--and if either of them were capable of thinking then, they'd have wondered just which one was doing all the begging.  
With all of the carelessness that had _seemed_ to saturate Sephiroth's motions... those last several thrusts passed over that small but all-important nerve center within him--a hand finally wrapping securely around him. It was all too much. "_I want you to hurt me!_"  
Upon finish of the last word, the tormentor surprised them both by grasping the blond locks tightly, forcing his head to turn--and meeting his lips with the blood-covered kiss of a true claim. Cloud came so hard that he thought... just maybe... he wouldn't have to care about kissing back.  
There was blackness. A darker kind of darkness. It was peace--for a moment, nothingness was the most wonderful thing that ever existed.  
Until the hand on his cheek brought him back. "Good." Cooed softly, gently...  
A long, motionless silence was spotted with gasps. "I wish you'd have killed me."  
"I will. Some day I will." The man promised with something... that was so close to kindness... almost understanding of compassion. "For now, however..."

* * *

I've done a VERY BAD THING. And I loved every minute of it.  
If you'd like to be e-mailed when I update, drop me a line with whatever story/stories/website you'd like me to inform you of. 


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